"FINALLY!" Robin throws his hands up like he's been personally burdened by my emotional constipation. "Toby, you owe me twenty bucks."
"You bet on us?" Jason asks.
"Everyone bet on you," Toby says, looking amused. "Knox had this week in the pool."
"There's a pool?"
"There's always a pool when someone in the pack is being an idiot about their feelings." Robin grabs Jason's arm and starts tugging him toward the children's section. "Now come on, Miss Glitterbomb waits for no one."
"Miss Glitterbomb?" I ask, following because apparently I'm following Jason everywhere now.
We end up in the children's area, a colorful space with tiny chairs and beanbags and a reading corner with cushions piled on the floor. The walls are painted with murals of friendly animals and the ceiling has paper clouds hanging from it. Kids are already gathering, bouncing with excitement, parents settling around the edges with varying degrees of enthusiasm.
I feel absurdly out of place—too big, too rough, too much. Like a wolf who wandered into a sheep pen and is trying to pretend he belongs.
But Jason pulls me down onto a floor cushion beside him, tucking himself against my side like it's the most natural thing in the world.
"This okay?" he asks quietly.
Instead of answering, I shift so I'm sitting with my knees up, creating a space. Then I pull him back against my chest, wrapping my arms around him from behind.
"Oh," he breathes.
"This okay?" I echo back.
"Yeah. This is—yeah."
His back is warm against my chest. I can feel his heartbeat through his thin t-shirt, slightly fast but steadying as he relaxes into my hold. He fits against me like a puzzle piece clicking into place.
Miss Glitterbomb makes a dramatic entrance in a sparkly purple dress, a wig of silver curls that defies physics, and enough makeup to qualify as theatrical. The kids cheer. She launches into a story about dragons and brave knights and unlikely friendships, doing different voices for each character, making the children gasp and laugh at all the right moments.
I don't really follow the plot because I'm too focused on Jason's weight against me, the way he relaxes deeper into my hold with each passing minute, the way he occasionally turns his head to smile at me. His hand finds mine where it rests on his stomach and interlaces our fingers.
This is what Robin meant. This is what "spending time together without your dick in him" looks like. Just... being. Together. In public. Like a normal couple.
When story hour ends and kids scatter for snacks—Robin made dragon-shaped cookies with rainbow icing scales that the children descend upon like locusts—Jason twists in my arms to look at me.
"Lunch?"
"Yeah. There's a Thai place near my house. Good curry. Really good pad thai."
His face lights up. "I love Thai food."
"I know. Robin told me."
"You asked Robin what kind of food I like?"
"I'm trying to do this right." I help him up, keep my hand on his lower back because I can, because he's mine now and I'm allowed to touch him whenever I want. "That means learning what you like. Taking you places you'll enjoy. Not just winging it and hoping for the best."
"Ash..." He shakes his head, but he's smiling so wide it looks like it might hurt. "You're kind of incredible, you know that?"
"I'm really not."
"You really are." He rises on his toes and kisses me, soft and quick, in front of all these moms and kids and Miss Glitterbomb. "Come on. Thai food. You can tell me about the time you cried watching Bambi."
"Robin is a dead man."
"He's my favorite person right now."
